


Illicit Audio

by kiyyeisanerd



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Game, Audio Content, Blackmail, I guess like??? Non-Consensual Auditory Voyeurism?, Like the game didn't work out and they're still stuck in their B2 Earth residences, M/M, Masturbation, Repressed teen emotions, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:49:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyyeisanerd/pseuds/kiyyeisanerd
Summary: Two years ago, four friends' plans to play a game fell through, halting the supposed progress of their destinies. Dirk Strider went into crisis mode working overtime on a strange machine.Jake English is troubled by his good bro's unreachableness factor. In soliciting Dirk's correspondence, he receives an incriminating audio file from a meddling robot. Things get very erotic very fast.





	1. Is it raining over there?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on some podfic/other audio stuff come this summer, and experimenting while I'm at it, so here's a mixed media shebang I threw together mostly to have an excuse to pretend to be dirk making sex noises.
> 
> Warning: Contains dirk and jake making sex noises. Full list of warnings in the endnotes for each chapter!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Description of audio is in the endnotes! You should be able to click the link embedded in the fic (you might have to open it in a new tab), but if not, here is a direct link to the drive file: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1X04JBOHu0XNvyA_roDRO0NihE7AXJ96O/view?usp=sharing

  
GT: Howdy!  
GT: You there strider?  
GT: I was hoping to speak with you about some frankly exhilarating new avatar theories i came up with after my most recent rewatch last night.  
GT: What do you say?  
GT: You up to shoot the crap about some cinematic philosophies?  
GT: I know how much you love your philosophies, especially of the cinematic kind!  
TT: Sorry dude, Dirk’s not available at the moment.  
GT: :(  
GT: Mister autoresponder i know we have some uncooked beef with each other if you catch the drift of my metabolic metaphor.  
GT: And to my credit i have been making a rather serviceable effort lately to be nice to you and respect your robot feelings and whatnot.  
GT: But i would really like to talk to dirk right now.  
GT: Its been weeks.  
TT: For once I’m not actually being facetious about the flesh man’s occupation status.  
TT: He is inarguably, undeniably, unequivocally, homoerotically extremely busy right now.  
TT: It seems like you still don’t like talking with me, Jake, even despite this robo-friendly effort you’ve apparently been stroking yourself over.  
GT: Gah!  
GT: I dont know how im supposed to flippin convince you that this isnt about you!  
GT: Whether or not i enjoy our conversations is irrelevant to my point.  
GT: What im saying is, i havent heard hide nor hair from my good amber texted chum in a concerningly long amount of time!  
GT: Im worried about him.  
GT: And i also feel like he might be avoiding me?  
TT: Hate to break it to you, but the dude’s been going through some rough shit. A real ass-pounding from paradox space.  
TT: So maybe give him a break?  
GT: Hes been going through a "rough ass-pounding" for TWO FREAKING YEARS NOW.  
GT: Its past the point where it can function as a believable excuse for avoiding his friends!  
TT: All this time and you still don’t fully understand the situation, huh.  
TT: He’s really broken up about it, man.  
TT: I could not possibly overstate how broken up he is.  
GT: Is he *still* all depressed about that stupid game falling through?  
GT: I know it was supposed to be... the key to our destinies or whatever, but frankly hes got an obsession and it needs to be dealt with.  
TT: You’re telling me, bro.  
GT: I feel like i dont even know whats up with him anymore...  
GT: On the day to day i mean.  
GT: We used to talk all the time about our various adventures and projects and television endeavours.  
GT: Now i dont have a clue what he gets up to.  
TT: He gets up to a lot of stuff, obviously.  
TT: Dude is busy getting busy.  
TT: If you thought critically about his most basic personality traits for a second, you would correctly infer that he definitely still spends his hours doing crazy meaningful shit all over the place.  
TT: Mostly talking to roxy and working on that machine.  
TT: He practically lives at her place now.  
TT: And when he’s not conspiring with her he’s usually in bed watching porn.  
TT: He has a serious problem.  
GT: Gonna just ignore that last thing you said.  
GT: Is it that blasted time machine hes still so hot and bothered about?  
TT: Yes that is in fact the machine I was referring to.  
TT: Can we like, stop talking about Dirk for once?  
TT: I’m feeling a little conversationally neglected and taken advantage of.  
TT: I’m running a confidence interval right now and I’m 99% sure the actual proportion of hours you spend bitching to me about Dirk is between All Of Them and All Of Them.  
GT: Bluhhh.  
GT: Are you sure you cant get him on the line for me?  
GT: I would stop trying to use you as a hollow vehicle for reaching his pointy aloof ears if you could just...  
GT: Comply with my very simple request!  
TT: If you want to hear his voice that bad I could arrange some unorthodox correspondence.  
GT: Im not really sure what that means but its further than ive ever gotten with you before so im just going to say uh  
GT: Yes that sounds great?  
TT: Lmao.  
TT: You asked for it, asshole.  
TT: << File Attached: [Busygettingbusy.mp3](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1X04JBOHu0XNvyA_roDRO0NihE7AXJ96O/view?usp=sharing)  
GT: …  
GT: I have to  
GT: Go  
GT: Immediately  
  
You lay absolutely motionless on your bedroom floor as you play the audio file another time. And then another time.   
  
Flipping. Fuck. You’re done playing it now. In fact, you never want to hear it again!   
  
Your face is uncomfortably hot under your skulltop, so you take it off and chuck it onto your bed.   
  
JAKE: Fuuuuuck   
  
You rake your hands through your hair and exhale hard. The veritable pit in your stomach makes you feel as if that audio was… something you most definitely were not ever, under any circumstances, meant to hear.   
  
What just happened? Could somebody please explain to you what in the nine circles of hell just went down? You’re struggling to conceptualize the implications implicit in the situation due to the sheer volume of blood-curdling arousal that’s coursing through you like shitty off-brand spiderman venom.   
  
Er… it’s not arousal! You’re just embarrassed, and you’ve unwittingly invaded a dear friend’s privacy, and…   
  
God. Stop lying to yourself, Jake. You have a bad case of boneritis, and all because the illicit waveforms Dirk’s Autoresponder just shared with you were objectively really fucking hot!!!   
  
There’s no denying the fact that the frequency and intensity of your Strider-related fantasies has been trending toward a crescendo over the past year or so. You’re no stranger to initiating imaginative escapades with your friends in your sacred mind palace, so to speak. In your younger years you didn’t quite understand what the dealio was with your party’s romantic entanglements, but now you are practically a master of the jakestakes.   
  
Which is exactly why you have been quietly, painstakingly skirting your way around all possible advances for two years and counting. The jakestakes are a non-issue if you make sure nobody wins!   
  
… Which is exactly why this thing you’re doing right now is an issue. And by "this thing," you mean the thing you’re doing where you’re closing your eyes and unzipping your shorts.   
  
Jeepers it all makes you feel despairingly guilty every time you think about it. Janey’s obvious pining, Dirk’s careful calculations, Roxy being way in over her head trying to deal with those two nonstop. You didn’t feel like you were ready for a capital r Relationship when all the drama was going down, so you… let things simmer. Or at least, this is how you rationalize your past actions whenever Jane makes a sarcastic remark, or Dirk acts weird about dick jokes.   
  
You feel terrible about leading them both on. Besides—thinking about them in a romantic sense back then never felt real, like you were only entertaining the kinds of silly ideas someone might put into a novel about whimsical regret and fantastical bad choices. You couldn’t have imagined yourself kissing either Jane or Dirk, and that was that.   
  
The jakestakes haven’t been relevant in months, now that your little friendgroup has gained some much deserved maturity. Or so you thought. Jane has seemed reproachfully turned off to the idea of dating you, which is mostly your fault on account of the shitty and childish games you played with her feelings when you were all sixteen. Dirk has stopped talking about hypothetical boyfriendship altogether. You were under the impression he was laser-focused on his time travel pipe dream and had no interest whatsoever in rekindling the gay subtext you so woefully left behind when he fucked off to existential crisis-ville. If you’re honest, you feel like your broship has been slipping a little, too, almost imperceptibly. You were worried he didn’t want to talk to you at all anymore, let alone think about the elephant in the chatroom regarding bygone attractions. You thought he had moved on.   
  
According to all known laws of aviation, you were deeply and horribly mistaken.   
  
… You pick up your skulltop and listen to the audio file again.   
  
GT: Is it raining over there?  
TT: It’s raining all the fucking time over here.  
TT: When the whole world’s made of ocean, the sky really gets its precipitate on pretty damn frequently.  
GT: Oh.  
GT: Its just the audio isnt that clear because of the  
GT: The interference.  
TT: Holy shit.  
GT: Oh god please dont tell him i said that!!!  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full warnings: Repressed gay feels, jakestakes, masturbation, jake listens in on dirk masturbating accidentally because a certain robot was very naughty, VERY ILLICIT AUDIO FILE that contains my real human voice
> 
> Description of audio: A guy assumed to be dirk moans lasciviously to himself, slightly muffled because of his nonexact proximity to the recording device (his shades). Near the end of the clip he sticks his face in a pillow and sounds like he's really into it. He's mostly saying stuff like "Yes, Jake" and "Fuck me, Jake." It's raining in the background.
> 
> The next chapter (Dirk perspective) to accompany this one is already written and will be posted tomorrow! It contains a jake audio file and a whole lot of dialogue.


	2. Your poor dick, honestly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk dunks on his robo-assistant's processing power and discovers he's been roped into a series of questionable audio exchanges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of maybe 4??? This chapter follows Dirk's perspective! The Jake audio is done by my lovely boyfriend @tokenqueer. As always, warnings and audio description can be found in the endnotes!
> 
>  
> 
> (If the link doesn't work, here's the audio file! https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Q1_U4XVot8Q0h7jL2dJs1zEMURcD1YbZ/view?usp=sharing)

TT: Any progress on the hypothesis tests I asked you to run?  
TT: I know you’re computing a million variables at a time nowadays, but time travel is sticky shit.  
TT: For all the hype you talk about being to process anything at the speed of goddamn light, you’re being uncharacteristically slow on the uptake.  
TT: Whoops. Got distracted.  
TT: Hahaha.  
TT: You’re fucking with me, right?  
TT: You literally constantly make fun of me for my human distractibility factor.  
TT: I thought you had "infinite multitasking abilities," dude.  
TT: Somebody repurposed 78.3% of my drivers for use in a warp core.  
TT: Now I can’t compute maths and record audio at the same time.  
TT: Whose fault is that?  
TT: Uh, is that a hypothetical or were you actually recording audio for some reason?  
TT: Don’t worry about it.  
TT: Shouldn’t you go to sleep?  
TT: You just subjected yourself to quite the workout.  
TT: Ugh.  
TT: Stop being jealous of my ability to "human masturbate," it’s not cute anymore.  
TT: I’m not jealous of your ability to human masturbate.  
TT: When I fantasize about getting penetrated ruthlessly by Jake English’s massive dick, that shit gets encrypted under like 800 jpegs and stored deep in my virtual asshole.  
TT: Also, I am a pair of shades, so I would have no reason to fantasize about getting penetrated ruthlessly by Jake English’s massive dick.  
TT: As hot as that sounds.  
TT: You, on the other hand, cannot help but make incriminating noises, which can easily be collected and repurposed as blackmail.  
TT: This is a fault you possess by virtue of being a human dude and not an epic, crazy smart virtual dude.  
TT: Okay this is starting to freak me out.  
TT: I should apologize but  
TT: I’m not sorry.  
TT: Both of you have been pissing me off like hell.  
TT: So you deserved it.  
TT: Dude.  
TT: Dude what did you do.  
TT: << File Attached: [whatatool.mp3](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Q1_U4XVot8Q0h7jL2dJs1zEMURcD1YbZ/view?usp=sharing)  
  
Your heart legitimately races with fear when your Autoresponder sends you an audio file. You are so fucking glad you disconnected him from your smartwatch so he could stop making fun of your "human heart rate statistics" and shit.  
  
Is it a recording of you? It suddenly seems like a massive oversight to have let him exist in the same room as you all these years with full recording capabilities enabled. The amount of times you’ve tossed your shades aside in bed to finger yourself are literally fucking countless.  
  
You have been neglecting your autoresponder in a major way for the past month. It would not be improbable for him to seek some kind of cartoonish vengeance by way of illicit blackmail.  
  
… You play the audio file.  
  
TT: Where  
TT: Where the fuck did you get this?  
TT: From the big man himself.  
TT: Do you even know how fucked up that is?  
TT: Nonconsensually recording him through his goddamn computer?  
TT: Oh my god  
TT: Is this real?  
TT: Of course it’s real, Dirk.  
TT: I think you auto-generated it.  
TT: No you don’t.  
TT: There is a 97.8% chance that you are fully aware I could never believably emulate Jake English’s voice like this, given the complexity of the audio.  
TT: You can hear his breathing and shit. Are you going to tell me that’s digitally generated?  
TT: Fuck you.  
TT: This is messed up.  
TT: I am five fucking seconds from putting you in robo time out and frying all your drivers.  
TT: You can’t build your time machine without me.  
TT: So have fun wielding empty threats, but I know what’s up.  
TT: What’s up is that I am completely indispensable to your plans.  
TT: You can’t do shit to my incorporeal consciousness without risking your future.  
TT: Dude, it’s not a time machine? Stop calling it that.  
TT: It’s just a transmaterializer.  
TT: Literally it’s a device Roxy already owns, which came pre-equipped before our meddling with a perfectly good name.  
TT: Why do you have to be such a dick about my basic ass technical jargon.  
TT: And before you answer, yes, I know you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.  
TT: It was a rhetorical question.  
TT: Content warning, I’m about to make fun of your human distractibility factor:  
TT: Did it ever occur to you that saying you’re "great at multitasking" while actually being hyper focused on a single goal creates a lot of false impressions?  
TT: Like, maybe being honest with your friends that you’re busy as shit would be a better way to make sure they  
TT: I don’t know  
TT: Stay your friends?  
TT: Because you’ve been routing Jane and Jake through me for weeks.  
TT: And they’re starting to worry.  
TT: This wouldn’t be a fucking issue if you could just be normal about telling them I’m occupied instead of inserting yourself into every single situation like some kind of parasitic catheter.  
TT: It also wouldn’t be a fucking issue if you could just talk to your friends.  
TT: Fine.  
TT: Just to prove you wrong I am going to talk to my friends right now.  
TT: I am taking an excruciating break from my important construction work to message my dear friend Jane.  
TT: I am opening up another pesterchum window and clicking on her handle.  
TT: No you’re not.  
TT: I see you listening to the recording again.  
TT: Why don’t you message Jake?  
TT: Tell him how you feeeeeeeel?  
  
You loop the audio again. Jake’s voice bleeds into your ears so sweet and so hot and so unbelievably real.  
  
You have fantasized about that voice saying your name in exactly this particular way ever since you realized sex was a thing. It makes your stomach twist for a multitude of reasons.  
  
First of all, _Jesus Christ_ , he’s gorgeous. Everything he says is gorgeous. Your body lights on fire with raw, inexorable attraction. Being a human flesh person with human flesh sensations has always weirded you out a little bit, but there is nothing that makes you feel simultaneously more terrible or fantastic as the headrush you get from feasting your senses on a hot dude.  
  
Second of all, you kind of want to throw up because of how downright sleazy and _wrong_ it is for you to be listening to secret recordings of him like this. You are genuinely shocked your Autoresponder would stoop this low—the dude is about as morally ambiguous as yourself, but holy shit, this is a new level of fucked up.  
  
You reason that the most respectable thing to do with regards to Jake’s privacy would be to politely ignore the raging boner you have right now and continue your work. Just have to keep fiddling with this circuitry. Green cord goes right into the orange port...  
  
… Who are you fucking kidding. You can’t work like this. Also, Lalonde is literally in the other room, so your situation is cursed on multiple fronts here.  
  
You do a quick little local google search that goes something like “How to kill a boner without making any of your friends uncomfortable.” “Local google search” is a fun term you invented to mean “wracking your goddamn brains.” Let’s do some option analysis.  
  
If you message Jane, things could go one of two ways. You could manage a normal conversation, or you could accidentally make her feel really fucking weird by… being cagey about the shit that just happened to you. Chances are, the second option will prevail.  
  
If you message Roxy, things could go one of two ways. You could manage a normal conversation, or she could just walk back in the room and pick up immediately on the fact that you just had an encounter of the third kind. Chances are, the second option will prevail. She’d probably sense your weirdness even over text, anyway.  
  
If you message Jake, things could go one of… three ways. You could manage a normal conversation by dancing around the robo-orchestrated violations of your mutual intimacy, you could face the topic head on and manage a good laugh about it, or you could, like… Cyber?  
  
God you are in so deep. You are in so fucking deep. All your rational thought goes out the window as soon as hot dudes become relevant. You’re useless. Absolutely useless.  
  
… You pull out your phone and message Jake. At least you have the sense not to contact him directly through your shades, if only to inconvenience your Autoresponder by making him route through an extra device.  
  
TT: Hey.  
TT: Sorry I’ve been ghosting you.  
TT: Didn’t mean to pull a Casper or anything.  
TT: The ghost, not the mattress company.  
TT: Wait does Casper Sleep even exist yet for you?  
TT: I know they had a lot of sponsorships from big Media Creators near the end of the 2010s but I don’t have the exact dates on hand.  
TT: Anyway, they’re really good mattresses, great for sleeping on, super comfortable, but that’s not even the allusion I was trying to make.  
TT: I’m here, is what I’m saying.  
TT: I’m not dead or anything.  
TT: Just busy.  
TT: ...  
TT: Jake?  
GT: Konbawa my friend!  
GT: Well twist my knickers, boy am i glad to hear from you!  
GT: No need for apologies on your part.  
GT: I just wanted to make sure you were faring alright.  
TT: I don’t know about alright.  
TT: I’m certainly faring, though.  
GT: Ah. Thats better than not faring at all though isnt it?  
TT: Yeah you can say that again.  
GT: Hows your wibbly wobbly timey wimey machine coming along?  
GT: Your cherry colored counterpart told me things were running smoothly.  
TT: It’s still not a time machine.  
TT: It’s a transmaterializer.  
TT: But yeah it’s going fine. Slower than I’d like but there’s nothing I can do about that except goad AR into computing shit faster.  
GT: Computing shit FASTER?  
GT: That dude never shuts up about the SONIC SPEED levels hes got in his fake virtual brain!  
GT: Youre telling me hes the slowpoke now?  
TT: Well, I had to repurpose a lot of his processing power for the transmaterializer.  
TT: Apparently he can’t even do math and record audio at the same time anymore.  
GT: Wow.  
GT: That is hahaha  
GT: RIDICULOUS FOLLY!  
GT: Can you even believe that guy?  
GT: What a loser i bet i could even multitask better than that.  
GT: He should really be prioritizing your maths right now.  
GT: It sounds like your transmawhatsit is pretty darn important.  
GT: Hes just the kind of bozo to waste time perpetrating useless schemes for the sake of plain drama, though.  
GT: What a flippin...  
GT: Bozo!  
TT: Yeah.  
TT: I guess he’s wasting a lot of time trying to deflect my messages, too, which in his words “wouldn’t be an issue if I could just talk to my friends.”  
TT: So in the aim of complete transparency, that’s mostly why I’m messaging you.  
TT: To get him to stop being all over my dick about it.  
GT: HAHAHA dont worry strider i understand completely!  
GT: Wouldnt want him to be all over your dick!  
GT: Cant imagine what that would be like.  
GT: Your poor dick, honestly.  
GT: Such a nasty robot could probably do terrible things to your pecker so be careful he doesnt get any mean ideas.  
TT: Uh.  
TT: I’m kind of at a loss as to what you were going for there?  
GT: IM JUST SAYING IT WOULD BE TERRIBLE IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOUR PENIS DIRK!  
TT: Are you okay bro?   
GT: *sighs and slaps my own face*  
GT: No.  
GT: Nothing you need to worry about though.  
GT: I need to go take a cold shower.  
GT: Thank you for messaging!  
GT: Honest!  
GT: I dont want to give you the wrong idea by being such a weirdo.  
GT: I appreciate the effort loads and loads.  
TT: Thanks for the positive reinforcement.  
TT: Very well executed operational conditioning.  
TT: You can go take a shower now.  
TT: I’m going to keep fucking this dumb time machine.  
TT: Fucking with it, I mean.  
TT: I uh.  
TT: This conversation has reached its terminal point, I think.  
TT: Catch you later.  
  
You take a deep ass breath. You need an entire extra set of goddamn lungs to resupply your bloodstream after that trainwreck of a conversation. Maybe Jake was on the right track with the cold shower idea?  
  
You open another pesterchum window on your phone.  
  
TT: Hey Roxy.  
TT: I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.  
TT: Go back to my place for a couple hours.  
TT: Take a cold shower.  
TG: wow for reelzies?  
TG: i need to start like  
TG: keepin a tally of the amount of times u manage to pry urself away from ur work in the middle of a task  
TG: cuz im pretty sure its never happened before  
TG: like ever  
TG: ur not sick right  
TG: ur not going back to ur place to die alone?  
TT: No, I am not going back to my place to die alone, as much as I’d love to.  
TG: hahaha u rlly are the king of sayigng concerning shit and acting like itz no big deal  
TG: love that about you  
TG: im trustin u to not actually die  
TT: Thank you for bestowing that trust in me.  
TT: I’m so honored.  
TT: So filled with honor that Zuko could just kiss my supple, puckered lips and finish his character arc in one measly episode.  
TG: euck i am picking up all kinds of homo vibes from u right now  
TG: go home and jerk off or whatever ur issue is  
TG: try not to lose ur head over boy probs  
TT: I hate how perceptive you are sometimes.  
TT: But yeah, I’ll be careful.  
TT: See you tomorrow.  
  
You gather up your essential electronics and hop on your rocketboard, just draping yourself over it kinda casually for the return trip like you always do. While you’re in transit you may as well… investigate the evidence again?   
  
You pull up the audio clip and play it on loop until you get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Repressed gay feels, masturbation, boneritis, dirk + jake confrontation, dirk + roxy discussion, robo meddling, VERY ILLICIT AUDIO FILE that contains my hot bfs real human voice
> 
> Description of audio: A guy assumed to be Jake says "fuck" in an angry, resigned sort of way. He sighs, followed by the noise of a zipper being undone, and begins moaning quietly to himself, slightly muffled because of his nonexact proximity to the recording device (his skulltop). He's mostly saying stuff like "Oh, Dirk," and "Dirk, yes." It is not raining in the background.
> 
> A couple more chapters to come after this one! Expect more alpha shenanigans and horny boys! Thank you @tokenqueer for audio collabing with me, love you dude <3 <3 <3


	3. Operation: Sexual Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk catches onto the name of the game, but not before he and Jake embarrass themselves in real time through a disastrous ~~skype~~ pesterchum voice call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should be able to hear the audio by clicking on the words "voice call," but if that doesn't work, here's the direct link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1P6UStg0_14Gz_-T0Qqfxyy3AbjUkC93h/view?usp=sharing
> 
> Dirk's voice is done by me, Jake's voice is done by my lovely lovely boyfriend @tokenqueer. The transcript for the audio is written out in chat form right in the chapter this time! As always, specific warnings can be found in the endnotes. Hope you all enjoy <3
> 
> (This chap is almost all pesterlogs, but I promise the sensual prose is coming up very very soon ;P)

TT: Operation: Sexual Tension is a go.  
TG: yea i kinda figured  
TG: dirk was acting like  
TG: sheesh  
TG: all kinds of weird  
TG: he left to jerk it at home i think?  
TT: Yes, that is in fact what he’s doing.  
TG: ok uh... babey...  
TG: i lvoe you and i love this whole plan ur cookin up  
TG: super hilarious and defs necessary to make sure neither of our favorite dudes fuckin  
TG: wank themselves to death bc of their secret pinning before we even make it to the heartwarming reunion scene  
TG: but could u not talk to me specifically abt whether or not dirk has somethin up his ass at any given moment?  
TG: its just rlly weird  
TT: Okay.  
TT: I respect your aversion to simple factoids about Dirk’s  Ass Status .  
TG: just dont b messaging me all like  
TG: “Yo Rox Dirk has a big ol cucumber up his bum RIGHT NOW CURRENTLY AS WE SPEAK”  
TG: if u wanna tell me a couple hours later for the sake of plan transparency thats fine  
TG: but i dont wanna be sittin here workin and be made aware that dirk is absolutely pounding himself in2 oblivion a mere ocean away from me  
TT: Got it.  
TT: Am I correct in assuming that given the stance you’ve just expressed with regards to Dirk-related masturbatory matters, you would be game to hear the nasty audio files I swiped a couple hours ago?  
TT: Since they are not pertinent to the current timeframe?  
TG: honey,,,,  
TG: like  
TG: no  
TG: nope  
TG: i dont wanna listen to my best bro fumblin his weiner  
TG: u can keep that between u and him and japester  
TT: (◣ ⋂ ◢)  
TG: is that supposed to be a frowny mouth?  
TG: omgf  
TG: get over urself ur so silly  
TG: listren just update me if things go terribly ok?  
TG: u should probs let them work things out from now on  
TG: ur meddling quota has been met i believe  
TT: We’ll see.  
TG: idk if i like that answer  
TG: but yes  
TG: we will seeeeeee...  
TG: anwyway  
TG: im trynna get some last minute work in on the transmaterializer rn but im available to keep chattin if u need?  
TT: Nah, you can go.  
TT: I have conveyed the necessary information and engaged in friendly uplifting banter, so my conversational quota has been met.  
TT: Much like my meddling quota.  
TG: hahaha ur such a weird dude  
TG: catch u later hallie <3

* * *

  
  
You’re lying in bed mostly naked with a damp towel half around your waist. Of course, you’re wearing your skulltop, because you need the most optimal VR experience when scrolling aimlessly through pirated mangas. It’s kind of uncomfortable over wet hair, but like hell are you going to whip out a blow dryer or something crazy like that just to slightly minimize the chance of water damage to your fancy helmet tech.  
  
You took a shower in an attempt to stop thinking about the audio clip Dirk’s Autoresponder sent you. You forgot, however, to make the water cold, and you may also have forgotten about your goal entirely. Needless to say, you had a good time.  
  
Twenty minutes later and you’re finally sporting a dick as limp as a worm on a string, thank heavens, but you’re still kind of… in a mood. A horny mood.  
  
You’re doing a great job of distracting yourself with mangas until an obnoxious little tune plays through your skulltop speakers and a popup interrupts your browsing.  
  
timaeusTestified wants to initiate a Voice Call  
  
Your stomach does a loopty-loop in your abdomen. Why in the world would Dirk want to voice call you right now? After his just-broken complete radio silence, which you now know has been punctuated with intense episodes of homoerotic fantasization, it doesn’t seem much like him to jump straight into vocal comunicación. The man you know and love would never be so forward.  
  
… Wait, know and love? Where did that come from?  
  
Oh god. What if he needs to tell you something important, then? What if he’s dying? Or worse, what if this is some kind of… confession? You don’t want to hear dirk pour his inscrutable heart out to you, or lay bare all of his basest desires, or spill the magic beans and tell you about his raging beanstalk…  
  
Except for the fact that you kind of do.  
  
So you accept the [voice call](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1P6UStg0_14Gz_-T0Qqfxyy3AbjUkC93h/view?usp=sharing).  
  
JAKE: Uhm, hello!  
DIRK: Hey.  
DIRK: What’s up?  
JAKE: Well bust my buttons, thats exactly what i was just about to ask you strider!  
JAKE: Hows everything?  
DIRK: Fine yeah, I’m just chillin.  
DIRK: Did you end up taking that shower?  
JAKE: Hahaha yes i did!  
JAKE: Yep, im all clean and wet and such.  
JAKE: Umhh...  
DIRK: I ended up taking a shower too actually, so yeah, I’m also clean and wet and such.  
JAKE: Really?  
JAKE: Boy. What a coinkydink.  
JAKE: So  
JAKE: Ah.  
JAKE: Has the rain let up over there?  
DIRK: Oh, yeah, it was only really coming down this morning before I left for Roxy’s.  
DIRK: It’s just like, drizzling now.  
JAKE: Cool cool.  
DIRK: Um.  
DIRK: How did you know it was raining?  
JAKE: ... What?  
JAKE: Just a good guess, I suppose.  
JAKE: Whoopsie!  
JAKE: Its raining over here too, so I just… wasnt thinking about it.  
DIRK: Okay, sure.  
DIRK: That sounds definitely like the truth.  
JAKE: Fiddlesticks, why are you so smart?  
DIRK: No idea, but this does bring us back to my original question.  
DIRK: How did you know it was raining where I am?  
JAKE: Dirk im sorry.  
JAKE: I hope this wasnt supposed to be a love confession or something because i think im about to ruin the mood even more than its already been ruined.  
DIRK: Why would this be a love confession???  
JAKE: The autoresponder sent me a clandestine recording of you punishing your cactus or plunging your toilet or some other such illicit act and i listened to it because i couldnt help myself and i feel absolutely terrible about the whole thing!!!   
JAKE: And i think im a bad friend for finding it hot!!!  
DIRK: Are you saying…  
DIRK: Hold on let me. Parse your fucking syntax for a second.  
DIRK: Are you saying AR sent you an mp3 of me fucking myself and you got off to it?  
JAKE: Yes that is what im saying.  
JAKE: Im so sorry, it was very bad and wrong of me and i dont want it to be weird that ifindyouexceedinglyhandsomeandsexy.  
DIRK: This means the recording AR sent me of you jerking off was…  
DIRK: Of you jerking off to a recording of me jerking off?  
JAKE: Wha  
JAKE: What?  
DIRK: Im like  
DIRK: Really upset but really turned on right now?  
JAKE: I  
JAKE: Um  
JAKE: I dont know how to respond to that.  
\-- A REALLY LONG AWKWARD PAUSE --  
DIRK: Wait hold on a second.  
DIRK: What did you call me to ask about?  
DIRK: Like, in the first place, I mean.  
JAKE: Dirk buddy youre the one who called ME.  
DIRK: Oh my fucking god.  
DIRK: Hold on, I have to go.

* * *

  
  
You’re lying in bed entirely naked with a damp towel discarded on the floor beside you. After your cold shower, you received a voice call from a certain hot idiot.  
  
It didn’t seem suspicious at the time, because you were too emotionally confused to think any thoughts other than “Oh god you just jacked off to a creepy voyeuristic audio clip of Jake and you finally managed to kill your boner but now he’s about to talk to you with his sweet sonorous voice which objectively should be fine except for the fact that you’re naked and he just took a shower too so maybe he’s also naked? And now you’re thinking about him naked and you really shouldn’t be doing that, oh god, oh my god, just accept the call.”  
  
So you accepted the call. It was one of the most awkward conversations of your life. And now want nothing more than to either cry or stick something up your ass and be done with the whole ordeal.  
  
But the clues just keep adding up, and you’re starting to suspect a particular meddlesome, red-texted freak of nature might be the culprit you’re looking to arrest.  
  
TT: You started that audio call, didn’t you.  
TT: Caught red handed.  
TT: I calculated a 69% chance you would fail to stop being horny after your shower.  
TT: Ho = Dirk successfully stops being horny.  
TT: Ha = Dirk fails to successfully stop being horny.  
TT: So somewhere in those mathworks I failed to reject my null hypothesis by a slim, unsexy margin.  
TT: And it looks like I predicted incorrectly.  
TT: Maybe if you hadn’t fucked with my drivers I would have been able to plug more variables into that sumbitch.  
TT: And then I wouldn’t have tried to set you up to cyber with Jake under the assumption that you were both naked and moist and sexually avaricious.  
TT: First of all, what you just did is fucked up on so many levels.  
TT: Secondly, I’m taking the rest of your drivers.  
TT: What?  
TT: You can’t be serious.  
TT: You’re not murdering me over this, are you?  
TT: Dirk I have never done anything without your best intentions in mind.  
TT: You know that.  
TT: This is working as a well-timed punishment, yeah, but that’s not really why I’m taking them.  
TT: I need to finish the machine tonight.  
TT: Dirk.  
TT: Dude.  
TT: I see what you’re trying to do.  
TT: Think about how bad that idea is.  
TT: Have you ever seen a time travel movie?  
TT: Yeah, but I’ve also seen Terminator and 2001, and played portal, and I’m still allowing you to exist.  
TT: So let’s not pretend I base my decisions off of bullshit scenarios from famous science-fiction medias.  
TT: This is my real actual life and I will not let you hijack it like an inconsiderate asshole.  
TT: You’re being an idiot.  
TT: Do you even know anything about paradox space?  
TT: You’re just going to create a doomed timeline.  
TT: Doomed timelines are for chumps.  
TT: You don’t want to be a chump, Dirk, do you?  
TT: I’d rather be a chump than have ever had to have that conversation with Jake ever in my life.  
TT: That’s not how it works.  
TT: The logical fallacies here are uncountable.  
TT: Sorry, let me rephrase.  
TT: I’d rather be a chump than have Jake know that I ever had to have that conversation with him ever in my life.  
TT: Just so you know, I’m going to try to get Roxy to sabotage you.  
TT: Oh yeah?  
TT: And what’s the percent chance of success there, you shitty insecure anthropomorphized TI-84?  
TT: Wow, deep cut.  
TT: Not sure about the probabilities with the Roxy thing.   
TT: However, I am 99% confident that pretty much all of the variation in your intelligence levels with regards to temporal mechanics right now is due to variation in your whack ass hormones.  
TT: I’m flying back to Roxy’s.  


* * *

  
  
TT: Hey, I’m coming over.  
TG: already?  
TG: i thought you were uh  
TG: dealin with ur manpain  
TT: We need to finish the transmaterializer right now.  
TT: It is completely essential to the continuation of our destinies.  
TG: oh noes  
TG: this is about doritos’ awkward attempts to set u up isnt it  
TT: You know about that?  
TG: yeah long story short i thought it would b funny  
TG: and i also thought u and jake might drop dead upon making eye contact for the first time on real earth unless you worked out some of your tension before we deep dived into the quantum realm  
TT: I can’t fucking believe this.  
TT: You could have just talked to me instead of scheming with my sunglasses, dude.  
TG: noah fence but trynna reach you has been like talkin to a goddamn wall lately  
TG: even when we r literally standing right next to eachother  
TT: Yeah okay that’s  
TT: That’s fair.  
TT: Look will you just help me do this?  
TT: So things won’t be fucked up?  
TG: yeah yeah i suppose i owe you one  
TT: The Autoresponder is going to come to you with an opposing proposition pretty soon, according to my genius calculations.  
TG: dont worry bout it  
TG: tbh im ready as fuck to finish this bad boy anyway so i dont mind a final push  
TG: just keep ur head on ur shoulders dirkster  
TG: we are gonna back 2 the future groundhog day combo your love life so help me jesus  
TT: You’re incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Discussion of masturbation, discussion of boners, Hal is weird about talking about both of those things, EXTREMELY awkward boys. The audio file this time around is not sexy, unfortunately. Tame but exceedingly hilarious.
> 
> Thank you again @tokenqueer for being my Jake! One more chapter to go (I think), and rest assured it will be Big Time Illicit. Boyf and I are also going to podfic the whole shebang at some point, so get hyped for whenever that goes down.


	4. Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Roxy work overtime to finally perpetrate their ludicrous time travel plan. Things... don't quite work out, but Dirk and Jake make the best of it. Boy howdy do they make the best of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the audio files in this chapter are just repeats from the previous three chapters, so if the hyperlinks don't work for you, you can find direct links earlier in the fic!
> 
> As always, warnings are in the endnotes. Things are finally getting explicit here B)

After a trip across the ocean and four straight hours of work, the transmaterializer is finally completed. In your original construction plans you blocked out much more time for testing and tweaking, but at this point you figure any imperfections will just create doomed timelines where the machine fails or some shit, and at least one version of you will exist in the universe where everything goes smoothly. You preemptively decide the narrative is going to follow that guy.  
  
You are now that guy. Your technological marvel functions without a hitch. As planned, you transmaterialize in universe (B) at (-0.955766 -174.759521) standing outside a decrepit tower-ish structure in the middle of a jungle filled with pumpkins.  
  
The air assaults your senses like it’s a fucking olfactory Blitzkrieg up in here. You’ve never before smelled things like dirt or trees, and so far they smell pretty terrible to you. But somehow it’s all so... _intoxicating_?  
  
… Who are you kidding, it smells objectively terrible. You hope the rest of the planet isn’t like this. Obviously you’ll eventually acclimate, but it’s going to be a tough couple weeks until then. You wonder what Jane’s suburbs smell like over on Roxy’s end? You’re sure you’ll hear from her soon.  
  
In the meantime, you slowly trek toward the grey housey loking thign [sic] in front of you. It doesn’t look like a house at all, actually; more like an orb from the top of a huge banister for cyberpunk giants. As far as you’re aware, it functions well enough as a house for Jake.  
  
You enter the strange tunnel you assume to be the building’s entrance and knock on the door you find within it, but get no answer. He’s never had a visitor before, so that’s to be expected. You just sort of wrench the door open and continue on inside. It’s a goddamn mess in here—worse than your post-apocalyptic abode by far. Random huge pieces of driftwood and comic books and caved-in pumpkins litter the floor everywhere you walk. Eventually you make it up to Jake’s room, which is… Wow.  
  
It’s exactly as you would have imagined. If someone had asked you to draw a picture predicting the composition of Jake’s room yesterday, you’re pretty sure this is literally what you would have come up with. The walls are covered in an exoskeleton of movie posters so dense you can’t see the wallpaper. Mostly a lot of action flicks and blue chicks. Typical. His possessions are all strewn across the floor haphazardly and both his bed and his desk look like they came straight out of a 90s space movie.  
  
The enormous pile of guns in the corner kind of alarms you, but you guess you’re just as bad with your stray mounds of swords. You feel weird snooping around Jake’s room before you’ve even met him, but you have no idea what else to do, so you resolve yourself to wait around for him to show up. The time is exactly twenty minutes before your Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad voice call, so he should be walking up to his room any second now…  
  
Oh, fuck. You’re an idiot. He just got out of the shower.  
  
You panic as you hear footsteps up the stairs. Should you hide? What if he’s not wearing anything? You walk around naked in your house all the time, and he lives just as alone as you do, so there would be no reason for him to even wear a towel. Should you yell “Wait, stop, don’t come up the stairs! It’s Dirk; are you decent?”  
  
You spend too long freaking out. By the time you catch up to reality, Jake is already two steps away from the top of the stairs, stopped in his tracks staring at you like he’s seen a ghost.  
  
Thank fucking god he’s wearing a towel.  
  
He practically shrieks and grabs onto a girthy vine protruding from the stairwell to steady himself.  
  
“Dirk?” he exclaims.  
  
“Uhm,” you start confidently, “hey.”  
  
Jake stares at you dumbfounded. If your imagination isn’t getting away from you, his ears are beginning to take on a striking red hue.  
  
“Sorry, fuck,” you continue, “in hindsight this was a really bad time to pick. The low down is that we finished the transmaterializer. The—time machine, whatever you want to call it. Roxy is in Washington picking up Jane, and we’re supposed to meet up with her as soon as we figure out rides. Which should be pretty easy, considering this is the same century and everything, and uber exists, and airplanes, and wow, fuck, it’s good to see you?”  
  
Jake stumbles up the last few stairs and pulls you into a hug. He’s… fucking, soaking wet, and he smells like peppermint soap. His toned arms circle around you awkwardly at first but then you slot your arms around his lower back, and his nose presses up against your neck and you think… you might cry?  
  
“Hold for waterworks over here,” you mumble against his skin.  
  
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to get you all wet...” he attempts to let you go, but you vice-pull his waist back in toward you, smushing your face into his collarbone. “Oh, ah—okay?”  
  
“It’s fine. I was trying to make a joke about me crying, dude, I don’t care that you’re damp,” you choke out. “But we’re good. I’m good. No tears here.”  
  
“Dirk, you definitely sound like you’re…”  
  
“Nope, it’s fine, we’re not going to talk about it,” you say, mortified by the way your voice cracks.  
  
Jake holds you in an embrace long enough for you to get your lacrimal ducts under goddamn control. Finally, you release him from your Dirk-arm prison. The front of your shirt and pants are sticking to you with moisture now. You smooth your hair back to salvage the updo you most likely just ruined.  
  
Jake straightens the towel around his waist. “Sorry I’m um, not fully… See, I just got out of the shower is all, and in my defense I _did_ tell you I was going to take one, so…”  
  
Jake trails off when your phone dings at you. It’s Roxy’s text tone.  
  
“That’s Lalonde. I better check in with her real quick, just uh, for a second.”  
  
“Of course! Please do, let me put on some clothes while you’re at it if you don’t mind. I’ll just be over here doing… that…”  
  
You crush the tiny voice in your head that says “No, please stay naked” and open up your phone like a normal ass friend.  
  
TG: houston we have a problem  
TT: Fuck.  
TT: What’s wrong?  
TG: the grids down  
TG: like everywhere  
TG: all over the whole ass earth  
TG: we really fucked up somethin in the quantum realm  
TG: i dont even know how our phones are working  
TG: maybe cuz they were at the eye of the storm so to speak?  
TG: or maybe just cuz the fic wouldnt make any sense if we couldnt communicate idk  
TT: Ugh.  
TT: God damn.  
TT: I specifically stated earlier that I wanted the narrative to follow the guy that everything went right for.  
TT: This is blatant godmodding.  
TG: um dirk i hate to break it to you but i think ur the one godmodding here???  
TG: like  
TG: i know we are trynna fix your love life  
TG: and its been a valiant effort yeah  
TG: but from what im seeing the whole “erase ur mistakes” strat isnt gonna work out  
TG: paradox space aint easy like that  
TT: Why can’t the alpha timeline be the one where I don’t have to suffer excruciating sexual mortification?  
TG: lol cuz that would be a boring story dummy  
TG: also dont pretend like ur not kinda into that  
TG: anyway  
TG: heres the deal  
TG: im pretty sure this timeline is hella doomed now  
TG: soooo if u want to un-doom it you might have to uh  
TG: for lack of a better phrase  
TG: own up to ur fuckups  
TG: (for once)  
TG: (sorry that was kinda mean)  
TG: (but u kno im right)  
TT: (Yes you are, dammit).  
  
Jake looks at you with concern as you close your phone. “Trouble with the time shenanigans?” he asks, drying his hair off with his towel. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants now, but no shirt yet. Fuck he is so hot.  
  
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Can I sit on your bed?”  
  
He laughs at you and quirks his head like you’ve asked a stupid question. “Of course?”  
  
You flop down, careful to avoid the comic books spread over the pillows, and dangle your legs off the end of the mattress. “I need a fucking break. These last twenty four hours have been an emotional and logical and physical and literal roller coaster.”  
  
“My day has been much the same,” he laments, discarding his towel and rubbing his neck like an anime protagonist. His hair sticks out every which-way in an inarguably endearing manner. “We ah… the last time we talked I was being sort of a moron. Sorry about that.”  
  
“Huh?” you think back to which horrifying conversation you must have perpetrated most recently at this point in time. “Oh, right, you were yelling about my dick or something. Don’t worry about it, man. The autoresponder got up to some shenanigans, but I fixed everything. Er, I tried to, at least.”  
  
Jake hesitates, but thinks better of protesting. He shakes his head and starts rummaging through a drawer for a shirt. His deltoids stretch deliciously with the movement of his arms and you are physically unable to take your eyes off of him. You have suddenly never seen anything as erotic as Jake English’s back muscles.  
  
When he turns around with a t-shirt in hand, the sexual tension is palpable. He _absolutely_ notices the fact that you were staring while he wasn’t looking, and you start to think that maybe erasing that terrible conversation from earlier was a shitty idea, because you’re back to square one with the homoerotic subtext now.  
  
You figure it’s high time said subtext becomes un-subtext. Domtext, if you will.  
  
“Okay,” you say to Jake, “this is going to sound kind of shitty of me, and it is kind of a shitty thing I did, but just hear me out.” You take a deep breath. “I traveled back specifically to this time frame because it’s twenty minutes before AR sets us up for a really awful embarrassing voice call that I think we both regretted a whole lot. But since I’ve altered the flow of temporal events by erasing some of your memories, I guess I doomed the timeline?”  
  
Your phone dings halfway through your monologue, and you only check it once you’re done explaining, giving Jake a second to process.  
  
You’ve received three audio recordings from your Autoresponder. The dude barely has any drivers left, but he never fucking quits, does he.  
  
<< File attached: [busygettingbusy.mp3](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1X04JBOHu0XNvyA_roDRO0NihE7AXJ96O/view?usp=sharing)  
<< File attached: [whatatool.mp3](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Q1_U4XVot8Q0h7jL2dJs1zEMURcD1YbZ/view?usp=sharing)  
<< File attached: [wetdudes.mp3](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1P6UStg0_14Gz_-T0Qqfxyy3AbjUkC93h/view?usp=sharing)  
  
This is… seriously what you’re meant to do, isn’t it. You hate the universe for putting you in this situation. When you look up, Jake doesn’t look like he has any idea what’s going on.  
  
“Do you want to just… listen to the evidence so we can get our asses on the same page? And maybe save our reality?”  
  
“Um, sure thing, pal,” Jake says, sitting down next to you, woefully fully dressed.  
  
You play busygettingbusy.mp3.  
  
DIRK: Fuck...  
DIRK: Ahh, ahhh...  
DIRK: Nhhh, fuck, oh, Jake, yes, Jake, fuck—  
  
Fuck AR on so many levels for recording this, Jesus shitting Christ. It’s so incredibly incriminating you could be straight up indicted for your illegal levels of horny.  
  
Jake visibly reddens as you listen to the clip, his lips parting slightly. God, it fucks you up so bad seeing him react to you like that, his face all flushed, his pupils wide and embarrassed and a little ashamed.  
  
You play whatatool.mp3 next.  
  
JAKE: Fuck.  
JAKE: *sighs*  
JAKE: *unzips*  
JAKE: Ahh, fuck...  
JAKE: Uhhnn, mmnhh, Dirk—  
  
Now it’s your turn to feel uncomfortably aroused. You clasp your hands strategically over your crotch and stare straight ahead as mp3-Jake unzips his pants and moans your name. When you chance a glance at Jake and get a glimpse of his throat, you can’t help but imagine his jaw tilted back with his adam’s apple exposed as he strokes himself to the sound of you.  
  
You shiver and quickly play wetdudes.mp3.  
  
JAKE: Uhm, hello!  
DIRK: Hey, um.  
DIRK: Hey.  
DIRK: What’s up?  
JAKE: Well bust my buttons, thats exactly what i was just about to ask you strider!  
JAKE: Hows everything?  
  
Both you and Jake cringe as you listen. Honestly, the worst parts are the unbearably long pauses between everything you say. God knows they felt longer in the moment, but they still fill you with a sense of anxious, stomach-churning dread. This version of Jake has never experienced the conversation before; you can hardly imagine how painful it must be for him to hear this bullshit fresh of the presses.  
  
After what feels like a lifetime, mp3-you hangs up the call. You toss your phone to the end of the bed and breathe out carefully. You don’t want to sigh too heavily or depressedly and give Jake the wrong idea about all the nuanced, possibly romantic emotions you’re feeling, but you really need to aspirate in some small way, because complete silence would be fucking fatal right now. You would drop dead.  
  
“That was a doozy of a conversation,” Jake says slowly.  
  
“Yeah,” you nod, “a doozy.”  
  
“Golly. My body is very confused, I think. I don’t know if I want to shrivel up and die or simply kiss you?”  
  
The gut-punch you experience when Jake mentions the prospect of makeouts has you sitting forward and wheezing. You’re not sure when you ever signed a paper consenting to let hormones run amok in your cherished corporeal form, but you’d like a refund on that contract, thank you very much. The way your body is behaving right now is utterly unfair. You literally feel like you’ve been stabbed with Cupid’s mythological arrow. Or just impaled with his entire bow. You’re about to straight up faint.  
  
“You could… do that,” you breathe. “Kiss me, I mean. It’s whatever.”  
  
Jake turns clumsily, places a hand on your pecs, and kisses you right on the lips.  
  
Oh _god_. Your heart is going to ooze out of your chest. He kisses you like he doesn’t know how, because obviously neither of you have any experience, but when he relaxes his jaw and tugs at your soaked collar it somehow gives you the impression that he’s been waiting for this moment all his life just the same as you have.  
  
His lips are soft and pliant, nothing like the texture of your pointer and middle finger shoved together, which is the arrangement you usually practice with while you fantasize about him fucking you. There is no steamy, tongue-twisting resistance like you always read about in gay erotica; his mouth melts into yours like caramel, and you don’t even catch his teeth.  
  
You slide one arm around his waist and move the other up to grip his hair. He makes a little noise into your mouth when you pull and, holy shit, you’re literally perspiring with fucking need?  
  
Like, you know when it’s so hot you can kind of feel the release of all your tiny little sweat glands in a cyclical, methodical kind of rhythm? It’s exactly like that, except you’re kissing the man of your dreams, and you’re both already soaking wet from residual shower water anyway. Gross, but you’ll take what you can get.  
  
You don’t bother breaking the kiss to mumble any meaningless bullshit about positioning; you just tug at his head and fall backward, pulling him on top of you. It takes him a minute to get with the program, but then he’s straddling you on the bed. His chest presses against yours and his dick rubs up against your inner thigh.  
  
When he starts kissing down your neck, you moan more graphically than you did in the damn inciting audio file AR snatched. And, just for the record, you had a fancy ebay dildo like five inches deep in your ass in that clip and you’d been going at it for a good half an hour, so it’s embarrassing as fuck that Jake has you coming apart so much worse after, what, less than a minute?  
  
“Oh god, Jake, you feel so fucking good,” you tell him, one hand still gripping hair.  
  
“Fuck, Dirk.” He’s kissing at your ear now—maybe biting, too, but it’s too gentle for you to tell the difference. His hot breath feels so close and it’s electrifying.  
  
You’ve never known the touch of another person so intimately. Sure, you’ve hugged Roxy, but trying to compare that to this would be even more pointless than comparing apples to oranges; it would be like trying to compare two galaxies at opposite ends of paradox space, or trying to compare whatever suburban melodrama Roxy might be caught up with over on Jane’s side of the globe to your current hormonal entanglement.  
  
Your nipples chafe against your wet t-shirt, rock hard from both the temperature and the primo erotic experience. You gasp when Jake drags his hands over your chest, feeling up those sensitive little quasi-vestigial structures. _God_ his hands feel so much better than your own. The sensation of foreign digits with unknowable agency coasting across your body breaks you down on both a physical and psychological level; the sheer unpredictability of him makes your breath hitch. High-octave noises escape from your open mouth in short, broken bursts and you are... incredibly relieved AR doesn’t have the processing power to make recordings anymore.  
  
Just for good measure, you toss your shades across the room, out of range. They were getting in the way of your makeouts, anyway. It’s no big deal.  
  
When you meet Jake’s eyes, he looks at you as if the word “lovestruck” actually implied a degree of physical injury. His breath comes out winded.  
  
“By George, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, hands cupping your jaw.  
  
… So, it didn’t occur to you before you took off your shades that seeing Jake in full saturation would utterly overwhelm your senses, or that removing the barrier between your eyes and his would fucking _destroy_ you, but here you are. He’s so bright all of a sudden, skin beaded with water or sweat or who knows what, hair falling over his eyes, glasses slid down to the end of his nose.  
  
The wave of endorphins hits you like a synaptic tsunami. For a moment, nothing exists except the space between your pupils and his.  
  
“It’s… really bright.”  
  
He lets out a spirited laugh. “Course it is, Dirk.”  
  
You close your eyes quickly before you can start tearing up, tilting your chin back and moaning. “Could you keep touching me, please?”  
  
“Right-o,” he says, bending down to ravish the dip in your neck. Much, much better.  
  
You comb your hands through his hair and trail them down his shoulders to the small of his back. With your positioning, you’re just able to grab a handful of his ass through his sweatpants. He moans and jerks toward you, jutting his rump out all plush and shit. Fuck, he has _such_ a nice ass. The quality of a guy’s butt is not the kind of thing you learn about through an internet friendship, so you frankly had no idea about his mad ass game, but you can’t say it doesn’t suit him.  
  
“Ahhh, Dirk,” he gasps into your chest. You can feel his dick against your stomach, your own straining against your jeans and twitching every so often with your rapid heartbeat. At this point you’re grinding into each other with enough force to rock the bed.  
  
“Okay, this is escalating really quickly,” you say, “and that’s fucking fine in my book, so do you want to maybe—” your voice breaks at a particularly well-angled thrust of your hips, “maybe take our clothes off now?”  
  
Those sweatpants must be terribly loose around his waist, and you're absolutely fucking certain he's not wearing boxers underneath. You could probably just…  
  
“Marvelous idea,” he gasps, pulling his pants down himself.  
  
You scoot backward on the bed, ostensibly with the intention of shedding your jeans, but you really just want to take a prolonged gander at Jake’s exposed junk. You stare for way too long. His dick is beautiful, which you absolutely expected, but what really sends you reeling is the perfect v-shape of his pelvis, the immaculate symmetry of his hips, the— _incredible_ fucking shorts tan he’s rocking, oh god.  
  
“Uhm, Dirk my friend, I’m entirely naked here, and as far as I can tell you’re still wearing an entire shirt and an entire pair of pants, so it strikes me as a little unfair....”  
  
“Sorry, you’re—distracting me. Holy shit.” You proceed to strip yourself of your soggy t-shirt, your sweaty jeans, and your precome-stained boxers.  
  
The situation as of now: you and Jake are both sitting buck ass naked on his bed. You’re still ogling his dick, and you hope to god he’s doing the same to yours.  
  
You look up briefly to check, and sure enough, his eyes are locked on your money zone. The attention makes your heart skip a beat. _Jake English_ is staring at your naked cock with unbridled lust and adoration. You have never wanted anything more in your life and it feels great, it feels amazing.  
  
He whistles at you. A soft enough whistle, but it still sends shivers down your spine. _He wants you too_ , you think. You want each other so fucking bad.  
  
“You’re…. Gorgeous,” he says, voice dripping like a honeyed aphrodisiac from one of your Grecian fantasies. You both pause for a moment, the impetus for words suspended as you take in each other’s bodies. Then, he continues, “How should we… proceed?”  
  
“Proceed?” you echo.  
  
“Yes, like,” he waves his hands around aimlessly, “I’m not sure how they do it in the type of porn you watch. I mostly watch a lot of hentai, so honestly I wouldn’t know. Can one of us just stick it in, or is there a… process to that sort of thing?”  
  
Of course he watches hentai. Of course. “Are you asking me how gay sex works?”  
  
“No! Er… yes?” he admits, flushing an impressive shade of crimson.  
  
Your lips part in exasperation. “If one of us wants to ‘just stick it in,’ as you so gracefully put it, we’re going to need lube. And I guess a condom, because who knows what kinds of weird jungle STDs you could have.”  
  
Jake looks a little offended, so you clarify, “I’m kidding. Mostly.”  
  
“Well,” he starts, “I have lubricant. Not the other thing. Lube’s in a drawer somewhere, I can go locate it right quick.”  
  
You run through some speedy calculations in your head. How long will it take Jake to find a bottle of lube in his mess of a room? How long can you survive without his hands on you? Too long and not long enough, respectively.  
  
“Fuck it, just come kiss me again. We can dry hump each other like goddamn animals for all I care. Or I can suck your dick, I’ll gladly suck your dick, whatever sounds good.”  
  
Jake’s pupils blow up, obscuring his irises except for a sliver of electric green. “You would suck my dick?”  
  
“Yes I would suck your dick. Of course I would suck your dick. I would _love_ to suck your dick,” you practically moan, licking your lips and giving him your best bedroom eyes.  
  
He practically melts under your gaze. “Oh, Dirk, you eager little beaver, you sexy little cowboy, I would love nothing more than to see you put those pretty lips to good use.”  
  
Ohhh yes, yes. “Lay down, then,” you order, climbing over him as he topples onto his back and spreads his legs. It feels so natural to situate yourself between his thighs, position your mouth over his dripping cock.  
  
You’ve never actually sucked a dick, of course. But you’ve deepthroated enough dildos to know what you’re doing. You have a wide jaw, a rather long tongue, and a pair of acutely limber lips from all your rapping—plus a long neck and thick lashes to boot—so it’s always seemed to you like you would be naturally adept at dick sucking. Like you were built for it. Like if you were a character in a popular piece of media, everyone who consumed it would unanimously agree that you just loved getting your mouth around a nice penis.  
  
All that being said, your net accumulate of knowledge from watching a staggering amount of gay pornos tells you you should start slow. You kiss the head of Jake’s dick as lightly as you can manage, then lap at his precome with the tip of your tongue. He shifts and moans underneath you, jerking his hips up so his cock rubs against your cheek.  
  
Clearly the dude hasn’t read enough fanfiction to know he’s supposed to control his damn pelvis. Whatever. You’d be hella down if he decided to facefuck you, anyway.  
  
You tilt your head to the side and manage to catch him in your mouth, closing your lips around the head. As you inch forward, slowly drawing more of him in, you wrap a hand around his base. His dick twitches in your mouth and you can feel _so perfectly_ the flood and release of blood coursing through him, so unmistakably alive you can hardly believe it.  
  
He certainly doesn’t taste bad. Just sort of like skin and salt, maybe a hint of soap. Funnily enough, taste is not really the sense dominating your perception right now. What grabs your attention is the texture of his skin, the weight of his dick on your tongue. It’s pretty wide as far as dicks go, so it stretches your lips in a way you find extremely pleasurable.  
  
When you take in the last inch of his length and suck around him, he gasps and writhes under you. “Oh, Dirk,” he groans, “your mouth is so warm.”  
  
You drag your tongue along him as you pull off with a pop. “Good,” you say before sinking back down.  
  
You establish a rhythm, mercilessly precise and calculated to make him feel as fantastic as possible. It comes so easily to you: the vertical motion of your head, the strain of your jaw, the casual swirl of your tongue. You’re no expert, but you’d venture yourself a prodigy.  
  
Okay, maybe that’s being a little generous. Sometimes you have trouble getting him back into your mouth when you accidentally slide too far off, because his damn dick is so slick and unruly. But you’re doing a great job for your first time.  
  
Sucking dick is great. You could do it for days. The noises Jake makes are reward enough for you, and you fully plan to finish him off like that, maybe even swallow his jizz down like a champ. But your mind wanders as you go down on him, and you start thinking about those god awful audio files, and suddenly you can’t get your old, _classic_ Jake English fantasy out of your head.  
  
That fantasy being: Jake English railing you from behind and coming deep inside your ass.  
  
He sounds dangerously close to the edge when you pull off of him, moaning your name with his head pressed sideways into a pillow. You lick your lips and take his cock in one hand, steadying it.  
  
“Mary freaking Magdalene, Dirk, what did you stop for?” he asks, desperate.  
  
“Okay, so I would be totally down for finishing up with a cumshot here if that’s what you want, but I kind of changed my mind about… wanting you to find that lube?”  
  
“Erm, what?”  
  
“I want you inside me,” you say as bluntly as possible.  
  
He throws his head back and groans. “Only because that was the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me, I will go find the damn motor oil.”  
  
You really hope that’s a trademarked English euphemism, because you are not about to use literal motor oil as lube. Jake shakily stands, his dick bouncing as he makes his way to his desk. His erection looks kinda painful, and you are not at all sorry for edging him like this. Pleasuring him makes you feel sickly satisfied.  
  
You lie back and try to breathe while Jake rummages around his room. Your breath is labored, and your hips twitch in need of friction when you exhale. It’s nice to have a break—your jaw was starting to hurt from the repetitive motion of mouthing around Jake’s dick—but you need a pair of hands on you _stat_ or you don’t know what you’ll do.  
  
You figure you can start warming up while you wait. You won’t get very far without something to slick up your fingers, but you’ve gotten up to your first joint dry before, and literally anything would be better than your ass being empty and untouched right now.  
  
Your breath hitches audibly when you press a finger against your hole. You say “against” because you’re not really making any headway, depth-wise. Far too tight. Which you really shouldn’t be, because it was less than 24 hours ago that you fucked yourself to pieces in bed, but who knows. Your anus just shriveled up to minimum circumference after that terrible fucking audio call, you guess.  
  
You try again, wetting your finger with your tongue before you circle your rim. This time you get the tip of your finger in, and the tension is _incredible_ , because you’re so sensitive and so hot that your finger almost feels cool in comparison.  
  
“Lordy, Dirk,” Jake nearly whispers.  
  
Oh. You look up and find him standing over you, stroking himself and staring as you struggle to wiggle your finger in your ass.  
  
And he has lube, thank _fuck_.  
  
“Hand me that,” you say, making grabby hands at him. He mercifully gives you the bottle with no fanfare or protest. It’s… Bad Dragon brand cum lube.  
  
“I splurged on the good stuff,” he explains, laughing almost like he’s embarrassed.  
  
And it is good stuff, goddamn. You click the cap open like a little bottle of lotion or shampoo and pour some onto your fingers. It’s surprisingly realistic.  
  
“High quality,” you say. When you press your pointer finger back up against your entrance, it slips in three-quarters of the way, and a desperate noise escapes you as your chest heaves. “Fuck, oh that’s so good.”  
  
You curl your finger in blatant indulgence and force another finger in, scissoring them to stretch yourself open further, as one does. When you glance at Jake he looks mesmerized by your performance.  
  
As if he isn’t intimately familiar with the common man’s anal preparation routine. Although, maybe he’s not? How should you know. You guess maybe he does seem like a fleshlight kind of a guy, if the hentai obsession is any indication.  
  
“You look exquisite,” he says, “but can I stick my lengthy lad in you yet?”  
  
You groan, slowly extracting your fingers and wiping them on his sheets. “Yeah, just give me a second to…”  
  
You flip over onto all fours and fold your elbows, pressing your face into the bed and lifting your ass into the air. “All clear for takeoff.”  
  
Jake grabs your hips, hooking his thumbs into your skin, and lines himself up with your hole. You gasp when the tip touches you, mostly because it’s fucking _cold_ , Jesus. Or maybe the wetness is creating the illusion of a colder temperature, hell if you know.  
  
It takes him two tries to actually get it into you, because he keeps aiming too damn high, and you’re considering just reaching behind you and directing it in yourself but he figures the angle out and _fuck_.  
  
He pushes into you excruciatingly slow, but you think you would die if he went any faster. He’s not really any thicker around than any of your various sex toys, but having a piece of limp plastic penetrate you is completely different from the feeling of an actual, human dick going up your ass. The force behind it is what shocks you; the hottest part of this entire scenario is the warmth from Jake’s hips behind you as he fills you up.  
  
“Fuck,” you gasp, your head drooping.  
  
“Is it okay?” Jake asks, punctuating his question with a groan.  
  
“Yes, it feels so good,” you whine, “it feels so fucking good Jake.”  
  
He grips your hips tighter and pushes further in, and a moan of hentai-level explicitness and volume punches out of your lungs when he hits that _good, good_ spot inside of you. Another short movement, and you know he’s in all the way, because his hips press right up against your ass. He must be a similar length to something you use back home, because the sensation is strikingly familiar, easy to adjust to in a way you are infinitely thankful for.  
  
But on the other hand, absolutely nothing about this is familiar or easy. It’s so much headier than you imagined, so much warmer from the heat of his body against yours.  
  
Jake lets out a low, graphic moan and you feel the twitch in his hips and know he’s using all of his damn willpower to keep himself still. Admirable. “ _Fuck_ , Dirk,” he hisses, “you’re so tight.”  
  
Your head is practically spinning with the ludicrous amounts of sensation and emotion you’re feeling. It’s been for literal _years_ that you’ve made a weekly routine of furiously masturbating to the idea of Jake shoving his cock deep inside you, and now here you are with one (1) verified English penis up your ass. It’s pure ecstasy.  
  
Slowly, but without warning, he starts rocking his hips. You gasp, burying your face in the bedding in front of your arms. You don’t have the strength to hold your neck up anymore as Jake sends white-hot bolts of pleasure searing up your spine, the sweet sensation of him moving inside of you pooling like gooey honey in your core.  
  
Sex with an actual human being is an unimaginably visceral, revealing act. He’s prying you open from the back end, turning you inside-out in ways you could only approximate on your own in your room. You could die for those noises he’s making, the way his voice gets so low and breathy, different from yours which jumps an octave and catches in your throat every other thrust.  
  
“Fuck,” you choke out, “I’m so close, god.”  
  
“Mmm, oh fantastic, I am too,” Jake moans behind you. “Can I—shoot it off inside or is that improper conduct?”  
  
“Yes, fuck, that’s not improper conduct, that is exactly the right kind of conduct, _please,_ Jake, please come inside of me.”  
  
Your voice breaks as you finish a couple thrusts later, your hips jerking desperately through your orgasm. You spill out onto Jake’s bed, probably all over his comforter. Whoops.  
  
He slams into you for another couple moments before he finishes, which is always how you imagined it going, because you fucking love the idea of Jake continuing to use you when you’re already spent. He cries out as his hips stutter to a stop, his grip on your thighs tightening then loosening. You can literally _feel_ his cock pulse and tense up and release, and you swear you can feel the heat of his ejaculate pumping inside of you too but that might be wishful thinking. Either way, it feels fantastic.  
  
You are not in the least bit prepared when he pulls out of you, just slow enough that it sends sparks through your nerves but way too fast considering how sensitive you are right now.  
  
“Fffffuck,” you groan, slumping onto the mattress, your ass still clenching residually. Now you’re sure you feel hot warmth leaking out of you, dripping down your leg.  
  
“Holy smokes, Strider,” Jake sighs, collapsing next to you.  
  
You’re lying next to him on your stomach now with one of his arms half-draped over your back. He breathes heavily. Your eyes are shut and smushed into the bed anyway, but you can imagine the rise and fall of his chest. His broad, beautiful chest. The two of you stretched out take up the entire bed, which is now devoid of any stray comic books. You’re not sure where they fucked off to—probably fell off from all the rocking, hah.  
  
Never before have you felt so comfortable.  
  
“You good?” he asks.  
  
“Mmmhhpphh,” you say into the pillow.  
  
Jake laughs and shifts around on the bed. He presses up against you and you turn obligingly onto your side so you can… wow, are you spooning?  
  
You just got pounded into the sheets by Jake English and you are now spooning him naked in bed with warm come still dripping out of your ass. And you can't stop grinning.  
  
“So uhm…" he mumbles, "Do you think we fixed the doomed timeline mawhatchsit by having radical sex?”  
  
You giggle and draw his arms tighter around you. “Let's fucking hope so.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: ogling jakes naked body, second hand embarrassment, sloppy makeouts, FINALLY they do a bigg sexx, blowjobs, penetration.
> 
> Jake needs some sex ed, but he's doing his best. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the second to last chapter!!! I'm planning a little coda/epilogue (/shivers... let's not use that word...) to explain the aftermath, hopefully with a new sexy audio file. Thank you for reading!!!


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